let me build you a suna fiery, organic rocketa scorching kingdom for your flares andyour redhot, scathing dreams withall the angst of the raven’s Plutonian Shore anda heart that beats blue like the eyes of the moon asshe pulls back the waves over the earth likea blanket of petals and stars​I’ll bake you a sun withmy paltry hands and my trifling arms andI don't mind if I burn in the haste of your fantasies orin the pyre in your glowing eyes orif I char in the wake of your luminosityjust let me build you a tomb starlet me build you a sun

It was a risky move, and I knew Everyone wouldn't understand, but I felt compelled to bring No One to Jamie's party.

We planned the perfect couple's costume - ice cream and hot sauce - which we knew would make Someone laugh (she's always had a great sense of humor). I didn't even care that Everyone refused to acknowledge my date. That's a lie, I cared a lot, so I grabbed No One by her saucy hand and twirled her like a music box ballerina until we collapsed to the ground, perfectly out of breath.

I tried not to see Everyone pouting in the background as Someone waddled over, smiled, and helped us up. I squeezed my date's hand and she giggled and I chuckled back.

In fact, Time didn't make eye contact with him once all night. She clung like a needy child or a spider monkey to her new boyfriend - Chad or Charlie or Chunk or whatever his stupid name was, that guy everyone hates but is nice to anyway because he's got lots of money and talks kinda funny. So he tried not to stare at Time, tried not to be jealous of Chad's hand holding Time's hand, tried not to remember when he had Time all to himself.

​When he left the party early and alone, somehow he had more time than ever, all to himself.